Silent All These Years
by AndYouLoveHer
Summary: Her heart and soul shattered and hardened by years of emotional abuse, his life an addictive train wreck. When boy picks himself up off the ground, and finds solace, he finds girl.
1. Prologue

BPOV-PRESENT

As human beings, we have a large capacity for memory. However, it seems we find ourselves remembering with absolute clarity only the moments of heightened bliss; or better yet, the monumentally devastating moments. Those moments that shatter us over and over again until all semblance of our hearts are missing. They shape and create us. Making us bitter shells of a humans. We remember those the most.

We carve them into our hearts and onto our skin. Tragedy laid to waste on rotting flesh, there to tell our stories to everyone, to remind us that we're merely fragments of what we were. Some of the worst scars are the ones that no one else ever sees. The ones that are spiritually bound to us. The ones that cage us in with no hope for escape.

From head to toe, we tremble and shake because it's a cold world to be alone in, but it's more terrifying to give ourselves to vulnerability. Any hope or trust in any other person has been gone for years.

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Well in case you failed to notice,

In case you failed to see,

This is my heart bleeding before you,

This is me down on my knees, and...

-Jewel

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A/N I know its short, but it was the best way to intro the story. Youre just going to have to trust me on this.

Thank you Everwondering, letmesign, VivaViva, Oxymornic8, nat3200, and dandyvamp. You guys are my heroes.

If you aren't reading or haven't read Past and Present by GiveUsAKiss413 You must go do that now. Her words are better than mine.

But I would still love it if you stuck with mine as well. =)

So feedback is nice.

ALSO VERY IMPORTANT!! I have offered up my typing skills for the Support Stacie Auction! If you like my stuff, go bid on me over there! I would love to write you a loverly story because heck!!! its for charity!!! doesnt get better than that right!! =) Thank you all, i am so blessed.

Banner link for the story found on my profile! Made by the ever glorious AngstGoddess.

Oh and.... what is your favorite feature on the opposite sex? What really turns you on? Maybe ill get inspired if you let me know. =)


	2. Summer Love

A/N Its all thanks to Stephanie Meyer. They are her characters, I just shape them differently.

IMPORTANT STUFF

I feel the need to express that there is some strong language, and some sexual interactions. So if you are younger than 18, you definitely should not be reading this. Also, I feel the need to make sure you know that what goes on in this chapter is in no way shape or form, rape. And that I am not glorifying the treatment of the situation, or the lifestyle choices.

That being said. Please don't punch your computer screen when reading this. I will not buy you a new one. Thank you! and gooooood luck!

BPOV

It's incredible the way childhood friendships can shape us and then break us.

We were five years old when Max Pieper showed up at my bedroom window covered in whipped cream; he told me he liked eggs, and that my cooties were simply way better than any other girl he had come across. That day he became my best friend. What can I say, I was easily won over. We were neighbors and in the same kindergarten class. Our parents were good friends, and we spent every summer together.

If you could have a rock at age five, he would have been mine, though Max never acknowledged me in class until we were in the sixth grade. The fact remained, that to all of his friends, I was still a girl with cooties, and therefore, we had to have a secret friendship.

This meant I got shoved around on the playground, especially by Max. I'm sure it was to try to cover up any thoughts that we were actually friends outside of school. It's all about appearances. So I tolerated my hair getting pulled, my toys getting stolen, and all those creative insults little boys muster up: "girls smell bad!' and "poopieface" and "oh yeah, well my dad is cooler than your dad!" _Gasp! I am so insulted._ Little boys were mean, and though Max always made up for it after school, it still stung when he took part in calling me those hurtful words.

By the time sixth grade rolled around, it was starting to not only be cool to have friends of the opposite sex, but it was also important to make sure you had a boyfriend/girlfriend. I was always rather logical and mature for my age and thought this idea insane. But naturally, to go against type in middle school is social suicide for the rest of eternity. At least, that's how it felt at the time.

Without my permission, I became Max's girlfriend. I couldn't say that I minded too much. We already spent lots of time together, so all it meant was that we could be friends in front of people. Well, more than friends.

He was popular, and at that age, that was an important factor. Plus, he was my best friend. He knew everything about me. If I was going to join in on the asinine trend of dating at an obscenely young age, who better to be my boyfriend than my best friend? No pressure, right? Wrong.

We held hands every time we were together, especially when we were in front of our classmates.

At first, it felt nice to have someone there who wanted to claim me. I felt like THE it girl. Every girl wants to feel special.

At other times, I felt smothered. His hands were always dirty and grimy from messing around outside. He had grown his blond hair out, and it seemed like he could never wash it enough. I suppose that had to do with the whole male changing process.

I always had to remind myself that I loved this boy and that this boy loved me. It was easy to tell when he was disappointed in me; I would start to lose feeling in my fingers. He took his anger out on my hands, squeezing them tightly between his.

He always had to have his hands on me in some fashion. While this was enjoyable every now and then, he always made it a point to claim his territory. He would get very jealous if I even thought about speaking to another boy. I didn't really need to though. I loved Max. I was content with Max.

That year went by, and I just got used to being in his shadow.

The summer before seventh grade, things started to change...

"Bells, I think we should kiss now. You've been my girlfriend for a year now, and we've known each other for much longer," he whined in that adolescent voice of his.

He had me by the waist, and I tried to wriggle away. "Maxxy, I'm not ready for that."

I felt a constriction in my chest, and the air left my lungs. It freaked me out. The idea of anyone else's tongue in my mouth still grossed me out. I was still content just holding his hand, thinking everything was dandy cool. Plus, I knew that with each step we took, we would be one step closer to the next level. The expectations would continue to rise, and the last thing in the world I was ready for was some version of arseplay that, at that age, I still knew virtually nothing about. The idea of sex to me was still some warped horror of embarrassment and disaster.

His icy eyes pierced me. "What good is a girlfriend that won't give you what you want?"

That stung. Was I really being a bad girlfriend by not kissing him? I just felt like we were too young to be needing to do those things. I guess everyone else was doing it. So why shouldn't we? I never wanted to be the one to jump on the bandwagon, but I also didn't want to lose Max.

He grabbed my hand and held on so tight that I decided to give up, and I said his name in a defeated tone, which he took as his cue. "Maxxy...." It took all but three seconds for him to smush his thirteen-year-old face to mine, with his lips sliding around on my mouth. To say I was disgusted was an understatement.

Not only did he smell like chicken... but he tasted like it too. What the hell did this kid have for dinner, and why was it lingering on his tongue and passing onto mine? Ew.

He was my best friend, my boyfriend. I loved him. So I kept my mouth shut. Well, I kept it shut figuratively speaking, since I was in the middle of playing smacky-lips with him.

He was overly aggressive and I knew my lips were going to swell, because kissing him felt like kissing a vacuum cleaner. A chicken-flavored vacuum cleaner. His lips were soft, but his inexperience led to much bruising.

And then my favorite part happened. We started drooling. It really couldn't be helped. He didn't allow either of us to come up for air at any point, so when were we going to swallow that shit?

Finally, it stopped, and I felt my face flush, but the boy was grinning from ear to ear. "Darn, Bells, we need to do that more often."

I wiped my mouth and bit my tongue.

Shoot, he actually liked that? "Uh, sure Maxxy, I guess so. I mean, if it makes you happy," I told him, with much regret in my voice. I just wanted to make him happy.

I rode the bus with him to school every day, and he would kiss me at my locker. I got used to it and eventually started to like it a little bit. Probably because we both got better at doing it with all the practice.

A teacher would walk by, and I would blush and push him away. "Stop, Max."

He would huff and punch the locker next to my head. "Damn, Bella, you are too uptight. You need to let loose more, girl. Who cares who sees us? You love me, right?"

"Yeah, of course I do, Max, but we don't need to do this in front of everyone." I liked to be with him, but I didn't feel the need to give everyone in our class a show.

Mr. Banner, our school counselor, caught us doing the kissaroo one day in the hallway, and every inch of me was red, I was sure. I was so embarrassed. He grabbed Max by the shoulders and reprimanded him. "Mr. Pieper, that is quite enough. I am sure Miss Swan will have to breathe someday. Why don't you go to class, son. I want to have a chat with your girlfriend."

That day I sat in Mr. Banner's office with him for a good hour, telling him how I was feeling about our whole relationship. I told him things I had never told Max, things I had never even told my parents. Things that mortified me. He was concerned about me, and I found comfort in being able to tell someone.

Max was a little more careful in school after that. I noticed his demeanor would change whenever Mr. Banner was in the vicinity, and I silently wondered what had been said between them when I was not around. I knew there had been an exchange, of that I was sure.

The loss of contact at school resulted in more intense interactions after school. I took to wearing turtlenecks to cover up the hickies that decorated my neck, shoulders, and often even my chest and collar bone. My fingers would ache from where he had laced ours together so tight. I started to count the days until I knew he would explode. He had already admitted to doing the five-digit-disco every night. He played the guilt game with me. I could feel the pressure slowly building.

This routine continued on all the way through the eighth and ninth grade.

Summers were always a better time for us. He was more relaxed in the summertime. Skateboarding was his niche, and he spent a lot of time at the skate park, working on his tricks. His dream was to be a competitive, professional boarder. I would sit at the park all day and watch him.

I always had my iPod with me; music soothed my soul.

When he would land a difficult trick, he would strut his stuff over to me, and I would throw my arms around his neck and kiss him lightly. That would satisfy him most of the time. When it didn't, his fingers would dig into the small of my back, and he would bite down on my lip, drawing blood.

"Shit, Max, that hurt," I would whine, but he would only kiss me deeper.

The week before we began our sophomore year, we were at the park when it happened. The previously mentioned explosion.

This time when he came to me, his hands were instantly up the back of my shirt, pressing deeply into my skin. I felt my heart stop, and I knew my back was going to be bruised.

"I need you, Bella. I can't wait anymore. I deserve this." He stared into my eyes pointedly, a mere inch from my face. When all I did was swallow hard, his jaw tightened and his teeth clenched. "Give me this, Bella. Don't be so selfish. It's not all about you, ya know."

I knew this moment had been coming, and I had prepared for it. Well, as much as one could prepare for something they knew they weren't ready for.

"Can we at least go somewhere private, Max? I don't want my first time to have an audience of pervy skater boys." I begged him with my eyes as he grabbed my wrists and plowed towards his little car.

Once inside, he dove for my neck again, his hands digging at the button of my jeans. I was breathing rapid short breaths and could barely muster out, "Drive first, Max. The Red Letter always has vacancies. Take me there."

"You got it, baby." He put the car in gear and held my hand. He was happy, so my fingers didn't hurt. He pulled in, and I waited in the car while he got us a room. I guess luck was on his side that day because they didn't even card him for being a minor.

He came around to open the door for me and held my hand as we slowly approached room 25. He unlocked the door, giving me a really sweet passionate kiss as we entered, but as soon as the door was closed behind us, I was shoved forecfully up against the wall. My head hit really hard, and he cursed under his breath, apologizing while his hips searched for every way possible to dry hump me into oblivion.

He hitched my leg up at his hip while his mouth assaulted mine. My mind was horrified, but my body was reacting. Stupid, traitorous body wanted more of him. Inside I was screaming in protest. But outside I was on fire. I was sixteen for crying out loud! This was not how I wanted it to happen.

However, I couldn't resist deepening the kiss. I knew I would regret it later. He yanked on my hair, and I whimpered. It stung so bad, and I knew there were tears rolling down my cheeks. He didn't notice. Either that or he didn't care.

We hobbled over to the bed, and he pulled my shirt off over my head. I knew he registered all the bruises, because his eyes tightened, and he started to kiss them all one by one. Removing my bra slowly, he found my mouth again and kissed me sweetly.

His shirt was pulled off so quickly that I didn't register it until his bare chest was pressed to mine. I was exposed, and his fingers were undoing my pants. He wriggled them off of me with my panties at the same time. His hand cupped my wet sex, and he moaned, "Fuck yeah, baby."

I pulled him to my mouth, because my nether region was the last place I wanted his mouth to be. "Take your pants off, Max." I was so out of breath and just wanted to make him happy. He complied instantly, thrilled at my urgency.

I didn't look- I didn't want to see it- but, man alive, I felt it. He rested it along my opening, rocking back and forth. I wiggled a little because I knew it would tease him obnoxiously. I noted that there was no condom and silently freaked out, but then I got over it because I was buzzing. He held my wrists above my head, then laced his fingers together with mine. His lips left a trail down to my breasts, then back to my neck, while I stared out the window.

He thrust into me, taking me by surprise. I shrieked. It hurt like hell, and I didn't think there was any way he could go any further when I was suddenly proven wrong, and he violently pushed into me even deeper. I thought I was going to pass out. I was sweating bullets, and knew I had to be a bloody mess down there. The back and forth motion eventually started to feel more comfortable amidst the pain. I found his cheek and kissed him lightly.

Then he moved just right ,and I was on fire, everything got tighter and my back arched in immediate response. That was the moment I knew I was scared, the moment I would have given anything to turn back time. That was the moment that I had checked out.

Then the world stopped. My head spun, and I screamed in pain, and he gave it a few more good thrusts, pounding into my sore parts before emptying inside of me.

Limp and laying on top of me, the boy caught his breath. "Love you, Maxxy," I told him with what I could muster up, because I did love him, I did... or at least, I thought I did at the time.

"Of course, baby, you too." With that, he rolled off of me and fell asleep.

I felt alone, laying there naked that night in our sex sheets. He was there but only physically. I had just given him my virginity, and he simply rolled over and fell asleep. I didn't feel loved; I suddenly felt neglected.

And I knew this night had changed everything.

A/N

We were both young when I first saw you.

I close my eyes and the flashback starts:

I'm standing there on a balcony in summer air.

-Taylor Swift

Phew! We made it through Chapter 1!! That rocks. If you have questions, please ask me! Otherwise trust that things will weed its way out. woot woot.

Now if you liked this stufff, go buy me for Support Stacie. You can buy my time and words, for charity to help kick cancer in the patootie!!!! You have this weekend to do it! http://www(dot)majiksfanfic(dot)com/phpbb/viewtopic(dot)php?f=115&t=2856

Now, I need to thank some people. My megabeta, Everwondering/wishimight. She called me out on some technical stuff, and fixed all my grammar stupidity. VivaViva for helping me shape this puppy into a meaty beast! My best friend forever and ever amen, letmesign, for being ever so encouraging. dandyvamp for pointing out that I had age issues. Larin20 for just reading my stuff. hehe. Um. and always nat3200 for distracting me.

Special shout out to ninapolitan for reading my angsty goodness despite herself. lol. And for being ever so sweet. AngstGoddess003 for the beautiful banner you can find on my profile page.

and almost done! If you have NOT read Creature of Habit by EZRocksAngel, i dont know what your deal is... but go do it now. its done, its finished. Its brilliance!!

Now assuming you made it through all that! What are some songs you hear in your head while reading this chapter? What comes to mind?


	3. Lost and Found

Good luck reading this one. Try not to give me a hard time, Ive watched this stuff happen.

EPOV

Many people have told me that I've changed, but the truth is, I think I've just figured this whole damn thing out.

I grew up with parents that loved me and a stellar little brother named Brady. The kid looked up to me. That was the trouble with being an older brother.

It was a small town where we lived, and in small towns, there's just not that much to do.

I remember going to a friend's barn party one night. I was only fourteen years old at the time. I thought it was going to be a few of the guys sitting around a campfire, or throwing the pig skin; when I got there, it was very different. Not only were a lot of kids from our school there, but there were a lot of high schoolers, as well as complete and total strangers. Everyone was drinking and smoking; and there were girls, doing things with guys that I guess I just didn't realize were actually going on around me until I witnessed it with my own two eyes. I was assured that this way of life was normal. I'd had a rough day at school that Friday, and my best friend offered me a cigarette, telling me it would calm my nerves. Like an asswipe, I took it.

That was where it all began.

It was stupid. I knew right from wrong. My parents taught me well. Carlisle was always honest with me about his past, and I didn't want to get into anything simply for the fear of breaking my mother's heart. I loved my mother. The last thing I wanted to do was get into the lifestyle I had just fallen face first into.

It started out like most bad habits do. I got offered a cigarette and then some beer. Before I knew it, I was smoking two packs a day and was drunk three nights a week.

So by the time I was fifteen, I was in over my head. Partied every weekend with the guys, slept around with all the girls, and was a raging addict.

I got really good at hiding it, making sure that I had a place to stay when I was way too obliterated to face my parents. I was always chewing gum and wearing a shitload of cologne to cover the smell of the cigarettes. Or maybe my parents were living in denial at the time.

At the age of sixteen, I got my first tattoo. "Wasted" would forever be inked on the upper inside of my right arm. I thought it was something to be proud of at the time. I was a grade-A fucker.

My sophomore year of high school went by in a blur; I was always stoned. I knew I was the worst possible role model for my little brother; sometimes I felt bad, other times I couldn't give a shit. Brady was a smart kid. He didn't need me to lead by example. I was very convinced of this.

This was also the year that my parents found out something was up. In fact, I no longer cared for it to be a secret anymore. Everyone knew.

I paved the way for being independent, my own person, when all I was really doing was following the crowd. I was stuck doing exactly what all my peers were doing, what was expected of me. I was a self-proclaimed original who lived in the shadow of everyone else's shit.

"Cullen, party tonight at my house. You in, buddy?" Jason asked me.

"Have I ever not been in? You got a keg right? Because I got a few ounces of the good stuff. The guy said it was laced with some beautiful shit. Best natural high you can get, apparently. I don't know. I don't give a shit, as long as it gets the job done. But I'm not sharing unless you got some goods too, man." He always expected more from me than he ever gave, ever since we became best friends in the fifth grade, and that shit drove me crazy.

"Ya man, chill out. I got a keg, and Jazz is bringing some of the hard stuff. He evidently has a new hookup? I dunno, man. Come alone though, dude. There's going to be plenty of girls to choose from. No need to be leashed tonight." He grinned wickedly at me.

I smacked Jason on the back, thinking about my cousin. "I wonder why Jasper didn't tell me about this new hookup. He tells me everything. Huh. Whatever. I gotta pee like a fucking racehorse. I'm gonna jet. See ya tonight buddy."

I waddled like a penguin to the john, took care of my business in the smelly ass school urinals, then toked up in one of the stalls. I never got caught here. Super dumb considering it was the bathroom. You'd figure it would be the first place you'd get caught. Not me. Not ever. I was smart. No, maybe the better word would be sly. Or maybe it was just pure luck.

Who cares.

I chuckled at the door in front of me. Someone had written Lonnie's number on the stall. That's funny. Poor girl.

I started to float. I blinked a few... hundred times, put my shit away, and flung the stall door open.

There stood Brady. "Damn bro, you shouldn't scare a guy like that!"

"Edward, what the hell, man? I thought you were quitting." The kid looked like a totally dejected little boy. I was so high though. I just laughed. Oh for the joys of living in a small town where high school started in the eighth grade.

The fourteen year old little brother did not need to see his big bro wired and glazed.

"Whatever kid, don't you have class or something?" I walked to the sink to splash some cold water on my face and looked up into the mirror to see my bright green eyes surrounded by a crimson red. "Shit."

I turned toward Brady, who gave me that disappointed kid look, turned and walked out the door.

I punched the mirror. Because I was smart. The fucker shattered, slicing my hand open in multiple places. "Dammit!!"

I watched some of the red liquid ooze down my fist, pumping it a few times. It looked awesome, and I was too fucking high to even care longer than thirty seconds.

I rinsed my hand off and put my swagger on. I walked out into the hallway, only to get stopped by Mr. Gerandy, our school principal. "Fuck," I muttered.

"What was that, Mr. Cullen?" He gave me the authority glare-down.

"Nothing, Sir." I was an emo-moody boy today.

_What the hell, Cullen? Get it together._

"Dare I ask why you're a bloody mess? Or do I not want to know?" He looked down at the floor and followed the bloody trail to the bathroom, pushing me ahead of him. He had me open the door and followed me in. When the glass shards started to crunch under our feet, I started to laugh. I didn't care; that shit was funny. Or I was high. What-the-fuck-ever.

"Can you explain this Mr. Cullen? Why is it that I am always finding you with something broken?" He was waiting. After a few moments of silence, he sighed, his eyes softened. "Edward, Son, your father is a very good friend of mine; you know this. I consider you family. I've let you get away with the drugs for far too long, thinking it was better to let you phase it out. However, this has got to stop. I can't let you keep exposing this to the other students, and I care about you too much." He stared into my very bloodshot eyes.

I scoffed at him.

"Go to the nurse. Get your hand cleaned up, then meet me in my office." He sighed and waited for me to exit the bathroom.

Once we both left, he went to get a janitor to clean up the mess that I had created. Then he would be off to his office, where I knew he would be waiting for me.

I came out grinning, winking at everyone on my way to the nurse's office.

Before I made it in, I was physically smashed against a locker, while Emily stuck her tongue down my throat. This happened to me frequently. Random girls would attack me in the hallway. I was a master of the ladies. They all wanted a piece, so I spread the love.

The school held no one of special interest for me. I believed that there would never be just one girl for me. So every girl was my girl at some point.

They kept me from having to whack off on my own, and kept me company when I wanted it. The one thing I could say about these girls, was that they always came through for me when I needed them. Sure, I could say I cared what happened to them in their lives, but no girl ever meant much more to me than a gift of pleasure. And while there were multiple repeat performances with each girl, Emily was the one I spent the most time with.

I can't say I ever treated them badly, simply because I had laid it out for them real clearly. I didn't want to date them, or be their boyfriend, or talk about anything. If they had a problem with that, I respected that, but then told them not to waste their time, because I had no desire to hurt anyone. All I wanted was to have some fun and have no responsibility. On occasion, a girl would get upset and cry, and I would rub my forehead and simply point out what had I told her in the beginning.

That always led to smoking more pot and kissing her to get her to stop crying. Then I would send her on her way. I guess I was pretty much a dick, even though it was never my intention to be that way.

Each girl gave me something different. All were something I needed, so I was content.

With most it was purely physical. Others liked to make and bake me things (rather strange.) A lot of girls liked to take from me, see what they could get. It really never mattered to me. I had convinced myself that until the moment I met someone perfect, if that should ever happen, that none of my past would even matter. Who would care how I used to live my life?

At sixteen, it was easy to think you were content when you were a shallow fuck-up.

This particular girl had a stomach-fetish and started to lift my shirt in the middle of the hallway. Whatever, I was down, so I took control and pushed her to the other side of the hallway, pummeling through people, and shoved her against the lockers. She lifted my shirt again and looked at my stomach, and I could practically feel her wetness radiating from her jeans. That's all it took with her.

Not going to lie, I was good looking guy. I had a nice stomach. I was a tall, lean kid. Girls seemed to dig that shit. It's just the way it was. I wasn't a cocky bastard, but I took what I could get. Why waste what you are given? That seemed stupid.

I grabbed her thigh, hitching it up to my hip, and groped her tit. She didn't have much there, but I really didn't care. Em and I were known to just grab each other in the hall. There was never anything more to it. In fact, I don't remember ever having an actual conversation with the girl.

As her nails dug into my back, the nurse's door behind us flew open and Nurse Clearwater cleared her throat. I was still rather sluggish from the high, and a lazy grin spread across my face. Emily was giggling uncontrollably, and I kissed her one more time before smacking her ass and sending her on her way.

"Nurse Clearwater, you are smokin' today!" I whistled at her. I was a fucktard. Leah Clearwater was a twenty-four year old school nurse, and in that moment I wanted to touch her. I sauntered over to her.

_Shit_.

"I feel sick."

She opened the door further, and I ran to the back where there was a bathroom; as I worshiped the porcelain god, she sat at her desk, tapping her fingers, waiting for me.

*-*--*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I got sent home from school that day, after a very long, very colorfully worded confrontation in Principal Gerandy's office. There were threats, and talk of community service for the school. And after throwing shit around his office, I ended up with a suspension.

I walked into the living room, only to get stopped by my father.

He was a tallish man, blond hair and steel blue eyes, and while he was a very good, kind man, he could also be quite fierce. I knew he was pissed. His oldest son had come home in the middle of the day, completely blazed and bandaged up, just waltzing in non-chalantly.

That was me.

Then it came. The sigh. The fatherly, "I'm so disappointed in you" eye-roll-with-hands-on-hips, huff, puff and sigh.

"Edward, what has gotten into you, Son?" He went and sat down on his favorite La-Z-Boy recliner. "Your mother and I did not raise you to be like this. We have let it go for some time, but it is becoming way too scary to ignore anymore. This addiction and lifestyle has got to stop. You do stupid things and you look awful."

"Whatever, Dad. I don't know what you're talking about." I plopped myself down on the couch across from him.

"Edward, you punched and broke a mirror, your eyes are completely bloodshot, and I have never known you to be so, so... so cavalier." He rubbed his forehead, and I hated seeing him so distressed.

But then again, at that moment, I was flying still, and just wanted to go shower. I had a party to attend.

"Hey, pops, you have nothing to worry about okay? Principal Gerandy mistook the situation. I'm just peachy. Tell Ma that she don't gotta worry 'bout me." With that, I stood up and headed up stairs.

Carlisle followed me to the bottom of the stairs, and I could feel his piercing stare follow me as I trudged up, one step at a time. He knew I was high, but he also knew that straight up pointing it out would lead to a fight.

"Fuck!" I screamed when I slammed my bedroom door.

There was no kidding myself. I knew my mother was brokenhearted. I loved her. I hated the idea that I had a hand in her being upset.

I felt my hand throb, and my chest constrict. I was heated up, the anger building as the high dissipated.

I thought about Brady and what he had witnessed today. He was such a good kid, who didn't deserve to have a fuck-up of an older brother who was supposed to be a role model. Screw that! I was no role model. I was shit.

I was pissed at the world, and all I wanted was some liquor. Some liquor and weed. I wanted to get obliterated. The party that night could not come soon enough.

I stomped over to the stereo where my Mewithoutyou cd was waiting for me. I skipped straight to the track I was most interested in, "Torches Together."

And I screamed every lyric, throwing shit everywhere.

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And all the bridges you've burned,

leave you trapped off at all sides.

now the tables do turn,

and it's all gone, what's left for you.

-The All-American Rejects

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I want to thank my beta, everwondering. VivaViva for encouraging me when I was emo. haha. Letmesign, for being my best friend and telling me its good when its merely mediocre.

Please leave a review. If you read this, and dont leave a review, it makes my head spin.

Whats your favorite color??


	4. A Little on the Broken Side

**Characters belong to SM. No copyright intended. **

**I own my yummy burger that... well letmesign actually bought so scratch that. and well my momma and daddy bought my phone and my computer. so technicall... well shit. you get the point. **

**A/N - Gets a little graphic. A little intense. And Im so sorry for the long wait guys. I had midterms, and my computer broke. Quick thanks to VivaViva, letmesign, and everwondering. **

**BPOV**

If it were possible to have a truly out-of-body experience, then that would have been the three weeks that followed my first time with Max.

I was distant, and he actually noticed. To be completely honest, I remember very little of those weeks that followed. I was emotionally checked-out. I showed up where I needed to be, when I needed to be there.

I would wake up in the morning, get dressed, eat breakfast, drive to school with Max, then get to school, and wonder when I had gotten there. Time was always staring me in the face.

There were a few instances where Max would shake me until I looked him in the eye. I would simply kiss him to appease him, until he was satisfied, sometimes ending with our laying naked in the bed. I didn't know how many times I had given myself to Max during that time, but it was obvious that I had. Like it was second nature to just sex Max to make him happy. I was under the impression that it no longer mattered anymore.

It was a scary thing, not knowing what was happening to your body because you were so trapped in your mind.

When my parents would ask me if I was okay, I would suddenly smile, telling them I was "fantastic!" and then simply go on my merry way, crossing my arms in front of my torso.

My teachers would call on me in class, and I gave them a marble-eyed stare. They eventually stopped calling on me. And I eventually was sent back to Mr. Banner's office to talk. I can't say I remember what happened in our meetings. He was worried about me.

My best friend, Lucy, would sit with me at home in my room on the nights that I just couldn't take it anymore. She would just hold me until I would stop shaking, or stop crying. She was also the one that ran to the drug store for me when I needed something that no one else could know about. That would sit on my dresser casting its shadow over my life. Lucy and I had met earlier in that year. She was the only one Max would really allow me to spend time with outside of him, because she was a girl and he thought it would be good for me. That and he needed "guy time" away from me.

I remember seeing the pain on the faces around me, but I was unable to truly respond. What I was going through left me completely broken, so alone, though surrounded by so many people. The terror of every possibility was overwhelming. Staring at the calendar every day, putting those big red X's through each day. And each day that passed, I would grow more and more sick to my stomach. More glazed over, more trapped.

The day I finally woke up, so to speak, Max dragged me to the parking lot and had me pinned against his car. He had my face in his hands. "Bella, come on. You've been so weird lately. Snap outta it."

Everything came into focus, and tears welled up in my eyes. I shook it off though, because I didn't want to think about it. It was a constant internal battle. Lucy was the only one that knew, and Max needed to know.

He took notice in the change in me in that instant, and he was holding tightly to my shoulders, while I was trembling.

He was going to hate me.

_No, Max loves you. _

I was still convinced this was going to tear us apart. But I kept telling myself that he loved me, and that he needed to know. Not to mention the fact that I simply needed him right now. I needed him to be my best friend, and my boyfriend. Not just the guy that I had sex with.

With that, I had a surge of confidence, possibly a little anger in the fact that I felt I needed to tell him this just to get some emotions from him, other than complete lust.

My eyes locked with his. "Max, I might be pregnant."

It came out so easily. I think that was because I had been battling with it in my mind for a while. I knew it was a possibility the whole time, so there I was spilling it, finally.

His hands dropped. "What... did you say? How do you know? Do you know for sure?"

He was panicking. I had nothing left in me to panic. I had spent the last three weeks emotionally draining myself, so that now that it had come out, and the truth was there, I was too tired to feel anymore. I brushed his cheek with my fingertips. "I don't know for sure, baby. I just know I'm late. And if I am, I need to know you're going to support me." I pleaded him with my eyes.

"Shit... yeah, I mean, of course." He opened the passenger side door and I climbed in. The door shut. His door opened, and he was in and grasping my hand so tightly. Great, bruised knuckles again. I was getting tired of trying to explain to Charlie and Renee why I was always so bruised.

Get this, I had to fake being clumsy so I wouldn't have to explain to them that I had a rough boyfriend.

He took me home. The ride was silent, aside from him clearing his throat every now and then. My parents were still at work, and we knew they wouldn't be home for a few more hours. When we pulled into the driveway, I turned to look at his face. He was ghost white. He looked at me and nodded, opening his door to go head to the house.

I was scared shitless, but there was no way in hell I was going to break down now. My heart was pounding, and his hands were sweaty. I still didn't know for sure. All I knew was that I needed to know Max still loved me. I needed to feel it; I needed to feel him. All I could think about was not losing Max.

We were standing in the entry way, awkwardly fidgeting with our hands intertwined. I heard his heart beating heavily, and we were still for another moment until I finally took the initiative and led him up to my bedroom. I looked over my shoulder to see his brows furrowed and his lips pursed. I knew he had the right to be scared and lost in his own head, but I was angry that he didn't realize that I had been going through this alone for weeks. Then I remembered that the reason I was alone was because I didn't let anyone else in.

I closed the door behind us, and he went to sit on the bed. His face was in his hands, and his legs were doing the antsy-dance. I needed to put a stop to this. I needed that pained, exceptionally terrified look gone from his eyes. I wanted the lust back. It was what I knew. What I was used to. I needed my Max to want me the way he had always wanted me. Not to look at me like the girl that could possibly be ruining his life. The possible teenage mother of his unwanted child.

I touched my stomach and frowned. Taking a deep breath, I pulled my shirt off over my head. I had to show him that I wasn't mad. Even if I was scared and frustrated, I needed to know that I wasn't going to lose him over this. I could see uneasiness radiating from his body.

I walked over to him and straddled his lap as he looked up at me. Playing with his long blond hair, I kissed his neck. His fingers dug into my back and I tensed, then continued kissing his shoulder.

"Fuck, Bella."

"That's the plan, Maxxy." I snickered into his neck, smelling his boyish scent. I felt his body tense, and then he pulled me closer to his body.

"What if you_ are_ pregnant? What are we going to do?" He looked like a child again. The little boy covered in whipped cream, tapping on my window. He was trying to push me away. But I wouldn't have that. I needed to free my brain from the torture that had been tormenting me for weeks.

"We don't know yet. And if I am, we will... figure it out... or something. Just, I don't want to worry about that right now, because honestly, I'm going to have to start worrying about it soon, and right now I just want to show you how much I love you. Let me do that." I pulled at his shirt and yanked it over his head. I ran my fingers up and down his chest, kissing and licking at his collar bone. He tasted... like skin and sweat. I told myself that it would be unnatural for him to taste like cotton candy, and kept licking away.

He sighed, and I knew that I had won this battle. His hands pulled at the button of my jeans. I raised my hips so he could slowly inch the fabric down. He then turned me over so I was lying on the bed, and pulled my jeans off the rest of the way, leaving my knee-high socks on and smirking at them. I knew he loved those things.

He took his pants off and we laid there in our underwear for fifteen minutes, him on top of me, staring into my eyes. The anticipation was killing me. My body was aching for love and attention. The kind that I was aware of, not the kind I got when I was locked away inside myself, unable to respond to anything. I didn't care about anything. I just wanted to get this over with. I just wanted him to know. I was eager to touch and to please. I was terrified that this might be the last time, because I never knew how things would change with him from day to day after this.

He put his hand on my stomach, and I pulled his boxers down to distract him. "Not now, Max. Let's just do this."

I wiggled out of my underwear and pulled his face to mine.

He kissed me, softly and slowly; it was nothing like the way he would normally kiss me. So I yanked on his hair and bit down on his lip, bringing out a low grunt from the boy on top of me.

He threw his arm over to my night stand and pressed play on the CD player. Kelly Clarkson's "Since You've Been Gone" thundered from the speakers. My heart raced, hearing the lyrics that held so much meaning.

_How come I never hear you say_

_I just wanna be with you_

_I guess you never felt that way_

His hands found my wrists, and he pushed them up above my head. He squeezed them so tight. It hurt, but it felt right because that's how I felt with Max. I wanted to feel normal, and the pain was normal. I was filled with nothing but urgency.

I was breathing rapid, shallow breaths, waiting for him to enter me. My hips elevating on their own accord to feel his heat, his desire. Upon thrusting, I definitely found his desire for me.

"Please... ple... plee... fuck me please... Max." The air escaped me as the tingling sensations took over.

Fire raged in his eyes. They narrowed and he bit down on his lip and pushed into me so hard and so quickly that I screamed. I was physically begging him to love me.

He let go of my wrists and started to trail his fingers down my arms, stopping at my elbows, and pushing them into the pillow. He then pulled my arms around his neck, and I dug my nails into his back. I was desperate for his undivided attention, so I stared into his eyes, licking my lips, and lured him further and further.

He set the pace. We were in motion, and I was on the verge of my first actual orgasm.

I had never climaxed before. I believed it was because I had never wanted it before, but in that moment, I wanted nothing more. The realness of the situation was pounding through, and all I wanted to do was give him that one satisfaction of owning me. Not to mention, I deserved it, dammit. To have that sweet entrance into euphoria, where only the release mattered. Where I could just be sixteen and having rapturous sex with my boyfriend.

I was screaming, and moaning, and rocking and shaking. He was pounding his fist on the mattress next to me.

The sounds he made were so primal, like a wild animal had stowed away inside my boyfriend's body.

The up and down motion sent me spiraling. And just as I was sent blissfully over the edge and screaming in complete ecstasy, my door flew open.

------------------

My room suddenly became a dungeon, the door opening to the blackest, scariest cave in all of history.

The naked boy on top of me flew off faster than I'd ever seen him move. He grabbed his boxers and left me exposed, naked, in front of my father.

I felt a surge of anger at my father for busting in on us, in my bedroom, without knocking, and being home early. But more than that, I was angry with Max for not wanting to protect me!

My whole body flushed even further than what it had been from the exertion, and I started to scream.

"Daaaaad! Get out!!!"

Max threw the blankets over me. Though, I would say it was a little late for that. Which only made Charlie seethe more. Max went ghost white staring at my father. "Sir..."

_He is such a coward._

I sneered in my head at the thought of carrying his child, at the thought of having sex with him again, at the thought of ever even loving him.

"Don't you dare say another word, Son." His voice was flat, but searing and deadly. "Get out of my house, now."

I knew my father's instinct was to protect me, but I couldn't get past the anger, and more importantly, the embarrassment of the situation. I felt the tears welling up inside, and my chest heaving out of... I don't even know what.

Max turned to me to say goodbye, and my father growled. I could see the apology in his eyes as he scooped up his clothes and scooted past Charlie, running down the hallway.

I rolled over onto my stomach with my face in my pillow, ready to crawl into a hole and hide from the world.

He just left me there, to deal with my father on my own. Max was no man; he was a child. A child that pretended to be a man, and just abandoned me.

I peeked out and up at my father. I couldn't control the thoughts in my head. I was infuriated at Max, at Charlie, at... myself?

The look on Charlie's face was that of pure horror as he said, "Get dressed, Bella. We are having a talk."

_Shit_.

I curled into the fetal position, pulling the covers tightly up to my chin. I was blubbering into my pillow when I heard my door close behind my father. And the tears erupted more violently, sending me into a trembling frenzy.

I shuddered at the thought of what was coming next.

---------------------------------------------

When Renee got home that evening, we all sat down for a very uncomfortable little family meeting.

I had gone through a million emotions since my father had walked in on Max and me.

I would be raging mad. Then I would feel horribly sad and embarrassed. I spent much of the time snot-sobbing and throwing shit everywhere.

I would sprawl out on my bed, sighing, then ball up in the corner of my room with my hands in fists of absolute fury.

The little brown paper bag that Lucy had dropped off a week ago still sat on my dresser, untouched. It seemed to loom over me like a great shadow, ready to destroy everything in me. The key to unlocking the answer was in that bag, and I was more than petrified to unravel that mystery. I had nothing to do with my life or my time. My whole life had always revolved around Max. And right now I was _not_ allowed to talk to him or see him. Not to mention the fact that he hadn't even_ tried_ to find out if I was okay or not. He had simply left me. The realization that I didn't even have any hobbies to bide my time hit me like a ton of bricks and I was screaming again.

So there we were, Renee, Charlie and I sitting in the living room. My face was eight shades of red, with makeup streaks everywhere.

"Baby girl, you wanna tell me what happened? Why your father can't even manage to get one sentence out without blubbering and foaming at the mouth?" My mother looked at me with her big puppy eyes and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

I hesitated, with a bit of defiance, and then realized how much they loved me, and how much of a burden I had been carrying with me all these years. The secrets and the lies. So I told them everything from day one. How Max stole all my firsts. How I had lost my virginity to him, along with my freedom, and even my personality. I had figured the latter out that afternoon while killing time doing absolutely nothing.

I watched from a cloud of my despair as my parents cried, and hugged, and my father's face grew uncharacteristically feverish.

I told them how he treated me when he was upset or when he wanted something. How the bruises were not the result of my falling or running into things.

Charlie's knuckles were white and Renee's brows were knit.

Sighing and cringing, I told them how it was a possibility that Max had gotten me pregnant, but I was too scared to find out.

Charlie's face went from red to ghost white, and my mother's gasp filled the room as her hands caught her mouth.

I broke down that day, and my mother held me, while my father paced the living room.

The next few days were blurry. I didn't go to school, and my father was always on the phone.

I either sat in my bedroom staring into space, or on the couch watching meaningless television, thinking that the lives of the characters in the soap operas had to be better than mine.

Some of the conversations were with Max's parents. Those were loud conversations. Others made a lot less sense to me, but I learned not to question my father when he was upset about anything. And this was the most upset I had ever seen him.

All I could think about was how much of a coward Max was. How he couldn't stand by me in what was supposed to be an act of love to defend me to my father. How he could just walk out on me and what could be our child.

At the end of the week Charlie and Renee sat me back down. The looks on their faces made my heart race, and the insecurity wrapped around me like a tight woven blanket, smothering me of all air, security and freedom.

"Baby girl, we are moving to Seattle. We just think it would be best for you to get a new start, and your father got a great job offer."

The pit in my stomach grew, but I felt this strange sensation of weight being lifted off my shoulders. I would no longer have to worry about lying to my parents. Max could no longer manipulate me or give me bruises. He could no longer make me feel like a piece of meat, or let me down. While he left his scar on me, I no longer felt obligated to love him.

The next few days were spent packing on an emotional roller-coaster. I never said goodbye to Max.

To this day, I have never spoken to him. He never even bothered trying to get a hold of me to find out that I was in fact,_ not _having his child.

My mother and I did a happy dance in the bathroom that day. I cried. Joy, relief and deliverance radiated from my body. Babies were a blessing, just one that I was not ready to receive yet.

I told myself that someday I would have that. Someday I would meet the right guy and have his child, after we were married and ready.

I cried when I said goodbye to Lucy, and to my bedroom, the only important things I was leaving behind. No one else mattered. The only people I wanted around were my parents.

And just like that, we picked up and left. I was starting over. I had a new opportunity to be happy. I was taking it by the horns, and I was running with it.

-----------------------

Could you whisper in my ear

The things you wanna feel

I'll give you anything

To feel it comin'

Do you wake up on your own

And wonder where you are

You live with all your faults

-The Goo Goo Dolls "Slide"

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**AN**

**Well there you folks! Hope I delivered. **

**Currently reading Just One of the Guys by SorceressCirce**

**Recommend: Identities and Shadows by letmesign and Emmett's New Pussy by bmango**

**How many times have you moved???**


	5. Evil Angel

**A/N Please prepare yourself for this chapter. Mature content within. This chapter earned its M rating. Im sorry for the long delay, my computer broke for a while, and I have been in 2 plays since the last chapter posted, plus full time school, and my part time job. I also was in the fandom gives back auction, so I will be writing drabbles for that. Watch for them! Thank you for sticking around. Good luck.**

**SM owns the characters, I own my coffee =) and my acting talent. bwahaha**

**EPOV**

After I had showered, and put on less blood-stained clothing, I threw my bag over my shoulder and trudged down the stairs.

It was about 7:30 and I had planned to get out to Jason's close to 8:00 that night. When I got to the bottom of the stairs Esme came around the corner with pleading eyes and tearstained cheeks. My heart shattered.

"I gotta go, Ma. Jazzy and I are just gonna hang out with Jason. No big deal." I ran my fingers through my hair, and winced when I felt all the cuts across my knuckles. My wince caused even more pain on my beautiful mother's face. I was making her age faster, right before my eyes. The worry and hurt and pain bled through her spirit.

I pushed past her to the door and put my hand on the knob. I turned to her and her defeated tone whispered her love to me.

"Love you too, Mama," And I turned the doorknob and headed out to the car.

I settled in, plugging in my iPod and turning it to "Radio" by Alkaline Trio. I had no idea how reminiscent of my life that song was going to be. Only I played both roles.

I sang along with the music as I drove to Jason's, meeting Jazz in the driveway and trudging to the house full of people. It was 8:00 p.m. and a third of the people there were already passed out on the lawn, or over the toilet. Another third were dancing in the living room or having sex in the closets and random rooms, and the rest were trying their best to get as blasted and baked as humanly possible before they joined the first wave of pansy-pussy-mongers. Those fuckers couldn't hold their own for longer than an hour before they were three sheets to the wind and useless as hell, catching bugs with their tongues on the front lawn.

If you were going to live this lifestyle, there was an amount of class that should go into it. Enjoy and savor the moments. These fools got blasted so fast that they passed out before they could even delight in the buzz. They skipped past the best part and looked like complete idiots.

Me? I took my time. Step by luxurious step until I would slowly fade into the dark abyss. But I would relish every moment until it took me. And in the morning, I was still able to remember ninety-five percent of the previous night's endeavors. I had fucking class.

I also held tight to the fact that I care to know what my pot was laced with each time I got it. I knew it was more than just your average pot, but I never wanted to know what I was really getting myself into. I lived in ignorance.

Jazz fist bumped me and handed me a full bottle of whiskey. "That shit is yours man, no sharing!" He grinned at me.

"That's my main man."

We gave each other knowing looks and headed into the party. Everyone knew when we arrived; that's when the real fun began.

Jasper and I, well we were the guys that brought the best stuff. We weren't shy, and we brought many people joy. I couldn't say that I understood it, but when we showed up, the atmosphere changed.

Jason spotted me from the loveseat where he had Lonnie on one side and Carli on the other. He leaned over, kissing both girls before getting up to greet Jasper and me.

"Welcome to the love-shack, fellas. The 'rents are gone, and we are going to fucking bake our brains out." He laughed and led us out back to the pool house.

There were people swimming and others playing guitar by the pool. There were also some cum buckets fornicating in the grass.

_What the fuck ever, dick wads. You could at least get a room like the classy kids that you are. _

We walked into the pool house and sat around the table. I took a swig of the whiskey and relaxed into my chair.

I reached down into my bag and dug around, finding the goods.

I set up my creation-station and got to work rolling the best joint of my life. The pot was laced with something-- I couldn't remember what the guy had said, but it didn't matter. I was going to put my suspension, and Brady, and the worry on Esme's face out of mind. That night was all about me and the boys. Fuck. It was just about me. Jazz and Jason were just simply there to enjoy it with me.

I handed each of the boys one, and then made one for myself. We lit up and let it settle into our systems.

We sat in silence for the duration of the first round.

I sat still in my head, looking forward to erasing my brain tonight. There was nothing about today, or even this year, that I wanted to remember. I just wanted to slowly fade away, enjoying every minute of it.

I pictured Brady's disappointed face when he walked in on me in the bathroom that day. _Puff_, another image fizzled away. I saw Mr. Gerandy's head drop in defeat when he suspended me. _Puff_. Vanish.

My father's angry blue eyes pierced my memory. Good thing the guys weren't paying any attention to me because a tear dripped down my cheek. I wiped it up and took another drag. _Puff_. His eyes passed from my eyes. I blinked. Sipped my whiskey and then remembered Mama. Esme's features splintered and cracked, standing before me. _Puff... puff... puff_. Shit, motherfucking shit. That image would not pass from view. The image of my mother so hurt because of me seared itself to my very being.

Ben Cheney joined us just as I was about to roll the next set.

"Good evening, gentlemen."

I greeted him with lazy smile, "Ben..."

Ben was the most sophisticated stoner there ever was. He was a straight A student, rich as a motherfuck, and skated through life like there was never an issue or worry in the world. He had a steady girlfriend, Angela, who was tall, pretty and loved him. He was also older and in college, which made him an odd addition to our group. But the man always had a trick up his sleeve, and that night was no different.

"Edward, hold on, kid. Don't wrap that one up just yet. I got something a little extra special for you boys tonight. Now it's only because you are my favorite that I am even considering sharing this with you. So enjoy it." He winked at me and sprinkled the white, crystallized dust over my unwrapped joint.

I felt like a motherfucking king, and offered the joint to the boys, who one by one refused it and said they would rather have a regular joint that night. I looked at them like they were morons, passing up a blissful high that doesn't just get offered for free. Ben was a king as far as I was concerned, and I mockingly bowed at his feet. He laughed at me and flipped his zippo, and I lit up.

Inhale. Blink. Smile.

I saw the look in the guys' eyes. They thought I was crazy. Maybe I was. Maybe I was selfish. All I wanted was to get rid of the shit that went down that day, and just buzz. I squeezed my hands as my fingers started to tingle. Just a little bit more until the numb would set in.

I leaned back into my chair and spread my legs out.

_Puff, puff, puff. _

I felt like shit and just wanted it all to go away. My heart pumped really fast and I would pull another drag, breathing deep, hoping to calm down my system. I just kept seeing Esme.

Jason, Jasper and Ben were all just staring at me. Ben had a shit-eating grin on his face, and Jasper and Jason both looked like their faces had joined the circus as contortionists.

"What, man?" I flipped my hand towards Jazz and reached for my whiskey bottle.

"Hey, Edward. I don't think you need any of that, dude."

He reached for the bottle and I yanked it away.

"What the fuck, man! Just because you don't wanna join the fun parade with me tonight, doesn't mean you have to take the shit away from me. This is my night. My fucking night. My veins are pumping man. It's like... fire. And... ice. And who cares about my stupid suspension, and Esme's broken heart, face, tears... what?" --Inhale--sigh-- "Wait... what the fuck was I talking about again, man?"

I chuckled. Took another large swig of the whiskey, finished the joint, and rolled another two. Ben was happy to supply me with the magic dust and when Jason pushed Ben out the door, I slipped out the back.

I didn't know what the problem was, but I had to get out of there. They were way to damned uptight.

There was no way in hell I was going to let those jealous fucktards ruin my high.

I finished the whiskey, realizing I drank the whole damn bottle, and tossed it into the pool before stumbling into the house.

I ran into the glass door before realizing it was closed, and slowly slid that fucker open.

"The... funnnn... hasszzss arrived, shitheads!"

They cheered and I saw Emily run across the room to me. She pulled my shirt off, noticing my tattooed arm while rubbing her hands all over my torso.

She was no princess, but she appreciated me and I liked that. I craved that attention. I was an asswipe that craved attention.

_Attention whore._

That was so very attractive.

She tickled the ink and breathed, "Yes, you so very much are," as she took my lips into hers. Sucking and dragging her tongue in and out of mine. I clung tightly to the joints I still had left, and smacked her ass.

"Find us some... uh... shit... ??" I tripped over my shirt that she had thrown onto the floor. "Um, I need some more...? Tequila? Or find something...tasty and meet me upstairs."

I swallowed the bile that had risen in my throat and clutched my stomach, taking in deep breaths and slowly letting them out, hoping to calm my stomach. The alcohol had me tripping, and the joint had me disjointed. I had already puked once that day, I wasn't looking to do it again. Especially not on Emily. She would torture me for that shit.

She bit my earlobe, and whispered, "Yes, sir."

I smacked her ass and slowly shuffled to the stairs. Lonnie grabbed my arm, "Ed, your eyes are like really dilated, buddy. Can I grab you some water? You should sit down."

"Hell no, Lonnie. I'm fine thanks. Em is going to wack my cock upstairs. Just, go have fun or some shit, baby doll. Okay?" I may have poked her in the eye as I struggled to get up the stairs.

I felt sad for the nice girl that was just looking out for me. I should have been smart enough to take her advice, but I wasn't. I didn't care. I leaned over the railing and blew chunks.

_Fucking shit._

"There..." gasp, "I... should be fine now. Just... had to get it out of my system... Just go, Lonnie."

I saw her eyes shatter. I had the worst effect on people. I broke them. It was because of me. I was the destroyer of all that was good in the world. And I was going to pay for it.

Just as I reached the top of the stairs I fell to my knees and Emily was there with a bottle of tequila and a lighter. She was all pretty standing there. She giggled at me and helped me up. The room was spinning but all I could think about was tasting that tequila and licking it from her navel. That night I was going for everything in large helpings.

"You are a mess, baby." She pushed me into the open bedroom that everyone else at the party knew not to go in, because it was always reserved for me and whoever I decided to bring in with me each time.

She was running her arms up and down my back when she asked me why I was sweating so badly. And I was. I was really hot.

"Edward, you're burning up."

"I'm prolly just coming down from the high, doll. Not to... worry." I took a pull from the tequila and threw her down onto the bed, ripping her shirt off of her. I stared at her bare form, and dripped the delicious drink onto her now glistening skin, and she started to writhe.

I licked, and poured and licked and poured. Then I set the bottle down and freed one of my joints that I had at some point stuffed into my pocket. Examining it, I was surprised to find it was still intact. Brilliant. She laughed and whipped out her zippo to light it for me. I was still straddling her as I continued to puff on the laced pot. I had no idea how bad it was getting. I finished one, took my pants off, and rode Emily until I thought my brains would explode. She rolled over to puke and then pulled me into her once more. There was nothing romantic or enjoyable about it. It was just what we did.

My abdomen was twitching and spasming. I couldn't control the flips my muscles were doing. Ben had supplied me most of the time. I never really knew what he gave me; I simply trusted him. So each time, my reactions would change, and each time I didn't have enough, my body would react to that too. I had gotten in over my head, addicted to something that I had no idea about. My body was hooked without my knowing.

She took a drink from the bottle and passed it over to me. I finished it off, and we made out until my muscles started to twitch again. I told her I just was wired and needed to relax, so she lit my last joint and as I finished it off, her voice echoed in my head.

She rolled me over, hovering over me and sliding herself up and down over me. She had me so worked up that we continued on, despite my blitzed state.

The room was spinning, and I felt like the brightest light had swooped over us. I felt like my head was floating and my eyes were burning out of their sockets.

"Fuck, Emily, turn the damn light off..."

"It's not on, Edward. What the hell are you talking about? Edward... Edward... Edward! Stop shaking! What the fuck! You're scaring me!" She was screaming, I could hear her screaming, but I couldn't respond. Every muscle in my body was convulsing. It didn't help that she was shaking me.

I could feel my limbs swinging around trying to protect myself. The panic swooped over me like never before. I couldn't breathe. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to see. It hurt to move.

I heard the door swing open, but couldn't tell who it was because my eyes kept rolling into the back of my head. I lost control of everything.

Then I was motherfucking cold when she was no longer on me. The voices surrounding me were muffled and I started to gasp for air. I could feel the tears streaming down my face, and my heart racing. I couldn't make it stop, and I couldn't breathe. The weight on my chest was so heavy I thought my lungs were collapsing.

"Call 911, he's having a seizure! Someone call fucking 911!" I had never heard Jasper panic, or in pain. He was always a chill dude. I had hurt another person I loved.

Then time stood still. Everything got really quiet, like I was under water. I saw Jasper staring into my face for a split second before he quickly disappeared into nothingness. A black curtain veiled my consciousness.

The last thing I remember seeing was a strange, beautiful girl. She was standing in the middle of a field of flowers, crying. Her long brown hair flowed around her face, and her dark chocolate eyes pleaded with me to come to her. I tried to move towards her, but I was stuck. I continued to stare. The girl before me was an angel, with long beautiful wings that extended out from her petite form.

She looked at me with the tears falling from her eyes, and her head dropped. And so did I.

**A/N So, how mad are you? Please don't hurt me... ;) **

**Thanks to my beta's letmesign, and VivaViva.**

**Please read Only Human by Amethyst Jackson**

**Also, The Daily Grind by letmesign is epic win! I beta for her, the story is pure fluff and she updates regularly. **


	6. Look Back and Fly

I don't own anything, Its all the lovely SM's. All I own is a lot of effing jewelry.

**A/N **I'M SO SORRY. I know it has been two months. I cannot apologize more. My life is chaotic. Please understand I am trying. I won't go on further. Just a thank you to my beta's letmesign and bmango. No more suspense... read. =)

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**BPOV**

Seattle was much bigger than what I was used to, but it was nice to just explore a new place. I didn't finish the school year or enter midway through. I sat the year out while Renee home schooled me. I had to let myself begin to heal.

I talked to Lucy on Skype every few nights, which kept me sane. I truly did love that girl. We never talked about Max; we had a common understanding. The only time she ever brought him up was to tell me that he was an asshole, and his parents made him get a job to support the girl he knocked up.

I no longer loved him, but I still felt betrayed.

It took a long time for me to adjust, but I got there, and in the fall, I started my Junior year at a new school. Thankfully it wasn't a huge school, since my parents opted to send me to one just outside of Seattle, in a small town. They thought that maybe I could ease into it with less people around to intimidate me.

I wasn't sure I liked the idea, but I trusted them, and gave it a shot.

Max had gotten me so used to being around only him -- and not going out of my own zone to make new friends -- that I wasn't sure what to do or say when I met these new people. I mostly kept to myself, with the exception of the blond boy, Mike Newton, who quickly befriended me.

He was an extremely nice guy.

The day I met him, he confidently told me that he was the captain of the baseball team. There was nothing cocky about the guy; he was simply proud of the fact. I could tell that he deeply loved the game and simply wanted to share his enthusiasm with others. It was a glowing trait of his that made me feel warm and excited.

It was the kind of excitement I'd never had the chance to feel back home. The kind that Max wouldn't allow. Mike was a real, genuine friend, and there wasn't anyone telling me that I couldn't enjoy his company. I was thrilled to get to know someone new. And more than anything, I was excited that he was real and respectful.

I quickly learned that he wasn't just popular for his sports ventures, but for the basic reason that he was incredibly nice... to everyone. The only time I ever heard negativity come out of his mouth was when someone was disappointing him; and not even him personally, but rather that they frankly were not reaching their potential. Mike saw the good in people, he saw what they were capable of and he relished that. When they fell short, it angered him because he couldn't understand how people would want to be anything less than what they had the potential of being. He was amazing that way.

Mike also had a girlfriend, which was very appealing to me, because that made him even more harmless. Jessica Stanley was fun, and fresh and so very much in love with Mike. I could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. I could also see the easy warning when he introduced her to me. She wanted me to know that he was hers, not for the taking. That wasn't going to be a problem. I received it and responded accordingly and we became easy friends. It was an instant trust that took me by surprise. They had been together for years, and I could easily tell that they would be together forever. Whatever that meant. If anyone could have a forever, I was willing to bet it would be those two.

"Hey, Small Fry. Jess and I were going to go out to the diner after class. You wanna join us?" Mike took to calling me Small Fry the first time we met. He claimed it was a combination of my small size, my salty attitude and the kinks in my hair.

"Oh, uh, thanks, Mike, but I sort of have plans already."

"You have plans, kid? Well it's about time you started to make more friends than just Jess and I. What are you up to?"

"Actually, you guys are still the only people I hang out with; and give me a break, it's only been two weeks." I scoffed at him. Although I appreciated his attitude towards me, it took me a while to warm up to people.

"I'm going to make you our team mascot if you don't try harder, Small Fry. You know I will, too. So what's the plan then?"

I could tell his curiosity was getting the best of him as he started to awkwardly shift feet. The guy was easily excited and amused.

"Actually, Mikey... today is my seventeenth birthday, and my mom promised me that I could get my tattoo done today. So that's the plan, I guess. I'm going to head over to that place in uptown Seattle that I heard was good."

I felt myself smiling at the thought.

Charlie wasn't keen on the idea of me getting inked, but he understood why I wanted to. Both of my parents had become extremely supportive of me after everything went down the year before.

"Dang, Bella! I never would have picked you to get inked. What are ya getting? Little butterfly on your ankle? Heart on your hip? Something cute and little, I suppose?"

He made this darling scrunched up face, and I smirked at the thought of what I was actually getting, and where.

"Not exactly. How about I surprise you on Monday?" I winked at him.

"Well, I think Jess and I should go with you. I don't want you going to uptown by yourself. It's kinda rough out there sometimes; plus the whole tattoo shop thing, gotta make sure it's sanitary and stuff. And Jess is fascinated with tattoos, although she would never get one, I know she would enjoy going. She likes you, you know." When Mike was adamant about something, he tended to talk faster, a trait he and Jessica had in common.

"It's okay, Mike. I promise I will be careful. Have a good time with Jessica, and tell her that we're still on for the movie tomorrow night. See you Monday, Ace!" I winked and threw my backpack over my shoulder. I headed out the door and straight for my truck. I had my sixth hour open, so I got done with school an hour sooner than most. It was truly convenient.

The drive to Seattle wasn't too bad considering I had to drive that distance for school each day. Uptown was only about fifteen minutes further, and so worth it. I had taken refuge in a small coffee shop I found there when we'd first moved. The tattoo place was right next door. Walking by it every day sparked my desire to get inked.

I got a large peppermint mocha, and then walked next door to the shop. I was early for my appointment, but Bree was ready to see me anyway.

"You must be Bella?" The girl smiled brightly and shook my hand. She was tiny. I always thought that I was small, but I dwarfed her. Reminded me of a Polly-Pocket that grew up on the West side.

Her long black hair flowed beautifully and reminded me why I always wished my hair was straighter. It wasn't that I had curly hair, but rather those damn waves that I either had to deal with, or spend the extra ten minutes trying to flat-iron out. The girl's personality shined through more with the pink stripe that adorned her shiny hair. I may have been allowed to get inked, but I don't think pink hair would have ever flown with Renee.

I could tell she was a deep soul. Someone that had lived through things, seen things. It spoke through her irises, the darkest shade of blue. There was joy there, and there was pain there. But beyond all that, I saw contentment, and understanding; a willingness to try to live better, and do better. It was all there.

The tenderness in her eyes seemed a contradiction with the metal piercings that were found in nearly every place you could imagine putting a hole. And there were probably holes in places I didn't even want to think about. Her tattoos however, were few. Few in the ones that I could see at least. Somehow that made her more classy. They weren't merely put on there for decoration, but I could tell somehow told a story about her life, who she was, and who she wanted to be. Meaningful, true.

She was beautiful in a completely non-traditional way, and made me hope that I exuded those things in my own way.

"Yes. Bree, I take it?" I was so excited that I was shaking.

"Let's talk about what you want done, Bella. Do you have a sketch or just an idea for me to create? Either works for me, just so you know." Her friendly enthusiasm was greatly appreciated, and helped me feel less intimidated by the whole ordeal.

I was about to have something painted on me permanently. That was a little bit daunting having never done it before. It wasn't any sort of hesitancy to get it done, but rather, getting it right. I had complete and utter faith in the girl in front of me. I could tell she was an artist that liked to tell stories. Her version of doing so was with a needle and ink. I trusted her. I had seen the portfolio of her work the time I stopped in randomly and asked the guy at the counter about her. He said she was "straight aces." I assumed that was a good thing.

But even bigger than that, we had some odd cosmic connection. It wasn't really explainable, but just the feeling that I didn't need to worry with her.

"I have an idea, I was hoping you could help me create and shape it."

I told her my thoughts, the vision I had in my head. When she asked me about the force behind my decision, I told her about what I had gone through the previous year, and it was as if the inspiration hit her like a lightning bolt. Her tiny hand started sketching wildly, and I watched as my future tattoo appeared before my eyes. I pointed out a few things and she made some minor adjustments, and then I laid down on the table and let her get to work.

The first thing she did was stencil it on. I got to see the outline before it became reality. As I stared at my bare back in the mirror, my eyes filled with tears at the hope and freedom that the picture symbolized. Inside my heart was soaring, and I was more than ready to make it a permanent fixture on my once-bruised body.

There was no way I would say it didn't hurt, because it did. It hurt like hell, in fact, but it was entirely worth it. I had always been afraid of needles, and actually still was, but something about why I was doing what I was doing made it less scary. Made it more bearable. I had been through so much pain in the past that the fear of needles seemed like nothing compared to what I had felt when Max's hands wrapped around my wrists, or the pain I felt when I realized that he had never once told me that he loved me. That I had just been a girl to him. A sex toy there for nothing but his pleasure.

She was only able to get one half of it done that day, and I had to make another trip out Saturday morning to get the second half finished. It took four hours for each half, making the whole tattoo an eight hour ordeal.

I was a little too uncomfortable for the movie date with Jessica that day, and sadly opted out, apologizing. She understood completely and told me she couldn't wait to see me at school on Monday.

I drove to school awkwardly Monday morning, not bringing my backpack at all for fear of irritating the scabs. The lady at the front desk, Bekah, had shown me her tattoo as I was leaving that day. She informed me that tighter shirts felt better than the ones that hung loose. I was grateful for that information and wore under-armor to school, with no bra. It left little the imagination, but it was comfortable and wasn't scratching at my scabs.

I saw Mike and Jess approaching from down the hall. Jessica's hair bobbed as she bounced by Mike's side in her excitement to see me. I always giggled when I saw her hair bounce that way. It seemed to perfectly reflect her constantly jovial personality and mood.

There was another tall boy with them that I hadn't met before. I was taken by surprise when my heart started to race a little. His hair was cropped and a dusty blond color that reminded me of Max. I instantly shoved that notion aside, realizing it would be wrong to judge this stranger based on the color of his hair. Relating him to Max by some physical factor was not fair; plus, nothing else about his appearance even came close to Max. The best part of him was his eyes, which were a beautiful hazel. Like caramel. I wanted to lick them. Grasping the concept of what I had just thought, and how awkward licking someone's eyeballs would be, I started to fidgit. I adjusted my shirt awkwardly, knowing I looked a little disheveled, but that there was nothing I could do about it. I wiggled, trying to make sure I wasn't nipping out, without poking them to fix it. That would make a great first impression, right?

"Small Fry! Let's see the ink, girl!" Mike's enthusiasm and curiosity was getting the best of him.

"Hold up, Mikey. Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" The tall boy grinned at me, waiting.

"Oh sure. Bella, this is James Kastle, he's on the baseball team with me. The catcher. Now show us." His feet shifted back and forth. He was getting a little demanding, and it was actually cracking me up.

I enjoyed prolonging the torture a little bit. "That so? Aren't you a little tall for a catcher?" Was I being coy with him? It wasn't something I had expected to feel for quite some time, if ever. But he was cute, and I was into it.

Just then, there was screaming down the hall, and I looked to see that one of the teachers had a rusty-haired guy and blond boy by the ears. I couldn't tell who they were from the distance, or if I had ever seen them before, but they made their way to the principal's office; and I watched in curiosity.

Mike rolled his eyes, "Fucking pot-heads. Now, Bella, stop teasing us." I couldn't help but notice the sadness in Mike's eyes as he forced himself to look away.

James grazed my elbow with his finger tip. "It's OK, Bella, we can talk more later. Give Newton what he wants before he pisses himself like an overly excited puppy."

I laughed at his lame joke, that I actually found funny because his eyes sparkled with amusement and he was simply cute.

"Okay, but it's probably not what you were expecting." I turned around and slowly lifted my shirt from behind, not exposing my front because we were in school. It was tight, which made it difficult, and a little painful in moving it, but I managed, I was too excited not to share.

I felt their silence as they stared at the sort-of wings that took up my entire back.

"Shoot, Small Fry, that's intense. But I mean, it's cool."

"Thanks, Mike. Jess, what do you think?" I knew she liked tattoos, but I also knew she was rather girly, and this wasn't some ankle butterfly.

"It's big, Bella, but ya know, it suits you. You have this sort of free spirit. I dig that. It's going to be really beautiful when it heals." I knew she was being sincere, and I appreciated that about her.

I felt my eyes shift to James, his opinion waiting to be told. His hand was slowly wiping his mouth as he stared at me. I couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one.

"It's... sexy," he finally said as I started to let my shirt slide back down and turned to face them again.

Jessica was cuddled into Mike's arms; they were wrapped up in their own little world, while James quickly invaded mine.

He blinked and stepped forward slowly. My heart raced. I realized that I had never truly felt excitement with Max, since it all just happened over a span of many years. There was never that new blissful torture of what the other person... stranger... was thinking. This was new territory, and like the idiot that I was, I jumped right in.

His fingertips barely touched my mine. Eyes locked. "Go out with me Friday, Bella."

"Swan," I mumbled.

"What?"

"Bella Swan... yes. Where?" I was so nervous. I don't think I had ever been on a real date. Max and I always just hung out at the skate park, or... in our beds. But James wanted to take me out. On a real date.

"Swan. That suits you. Batting cages and dinner?" He suggested.

Well, that was close to a real date, and sounded like fun. "I'm in. Pick me up at 7?"

His face came so close to mine; it was supreme.

"Not a minute later." He whispered in my ear.

"Don't fuck with the new girl, Kastle! You fucker." The same reddish-haired boy from before was leaning against a locker just down the hall watching us. "You stay away from that fucker, pretty girl. He'll poison your precious taint."

I didn't know whether to be tickled pink that he called me pretty, or to be horrified that he referenced my... _taint_ in public. I came to the conclusion that I was annoyed, and that he was high.

"Get your worthless ass outta here, stoner. Nobody cares, and she's already with me." James walked toward him with authority.

The boy's green eyes flickered with something as his gaze caught mine. There was so much sadness there, behind all that flawed beauty. I had nothing to say, so he threw his hands up and started to walk away.

"Don't say I didn't fucking warn you."

That was how James and I began.

If I would have known then what I know now, I would have listened to the bronze-haired boy with the sadness in his eyes. I would have listened, and not gone on that first date with James Kastle. But I didn't know. And I did go.

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Got you where I want you, again

Got you where I want you,

where I want you, I want you

-The Flys

**A/N **Alrighty tighty. What are you thinking? If you want visual of the tattoo, go to my profile page and check out the banner that AngstGoddess made me.

If you haven't read Dark Side of the Moon by blondie AKA robin, you must do so now. =) Otherwise, have a splendid rest of the weekend, and Martin Luther King day. As always, be praying and supporting those in Haiti. I have dear friends there, and sponsor a sweet little boy there. They are in need of financial support and many many prayers. Thank you all so much.


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